


#5

by red__letters



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red__letters/pseuds/red__letters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere, things changed between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#5

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an old pairing/color/verb/smell meme. Pairing is obvious, color/verb/smell are fuchsia/groan/toast.

Somewhere, things changed. Gerard is not quite sure why, or even how, exactly, but he is acutely aware of the difference in the way that he and Frank have been looking at eachother. Even now, when it is not even close to dawn yet, in the front of the bus and all the others are asleep, and time has virtually stopped and everything should be frozen, things are different.

Waking up at four in the morning – that was the same as far as Gerard could tell. For the past few months he had been consistently woken up by the smell of toast in the early morning (or is it late at night? He never can tell the difference), and maybe at first it was only one or two times a week, but now, it is odd when it _doesn’t_ happen. And so, at the beginning, he would just lie in his bunk, assuming it was his imagination, and go back to sleep. But then he started following the smell to the front of the bus, and it turned out that it was Frank waking him up so early. So Gerard sat down with him on the little couch, and it groaned as it swallowed him, the noise startling them both and making them freeze and avoid eye contact with eachother. Even the noises had stayed the same by Gerard’s recollection. Same wail and groan of vinyl as he sat on it, trying too hard to be quiet. Same whirr of wheels and constant static of the highway under them.

But now, after days and weeks and months, really, of spending more time alone together than they had probably in the entire time they had known eachother (and maybe that was why), something is different. They don’t talk any more of less than they did at the beginning, and the front room still smells strongly of slightly burnt bread and strawberry jam, but now, there is some integral part of their relationship that has shifted.

Gerard, personally, blames it on Frank’s eyes. The way that, even with the light slicing between the blinds on the highway, making Frank’s face abruptly appear then disappear, his eyes are still disturbingly vivid in the dark. Gerard can see the fuchsia smudges around his eyes left from the night before (and really it was only several hours previously, wasn’t it?), too dark to be pink. He remembers someone saying the moments before dawn are the darkest, and it’s that darkness that makes them look like fuchsia bruises around Frank’s eyes. And because Gerard hates for those he cares about to be injured and the make-up really _does_ look horribly like bruising, he rests his cheek against Frank’s. Then his nose is pressed against Frank’s cheek, and then his mouth. He is startled when Frank turns in and their lips press together. But not nearly as startled as he would have been last month. Even last week.

So he blames Frank’s eyes. Smudges the pigment around them and kisses him (he hadn’t considered the first press of lips a kiss, but this is, indubitably, a kiss). Gerard kisses him until dawn passes and finds that he has nothing to blame once Frank is asleep against his shoulder. So he smiles and looks wonderingly at his fingertips. He presses them to his closed mouth and rests his head on Frank’s. And they sleep.


End file.
